


your traces remain

by withJeae



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Famous Rapper Bobby, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Producer / rapper Hanbin, Slow Build, YG entertainment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-28 07:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withJeae/pseuds/withJeae
Summary: He’s seen it, head-first, the way things are concluded; the humdrum opera of getting close and turning into strangers. It always ends with leaving. It makes sense to him, though, Hanbin understands it is hard not to be hated when the blunt truth of yourself is releaved to others.





	1. Chapter 1

  
*

Hanbin woke up at dawn on a chilly Autumn day, his eyes slowly registering his surroundings.

  
The dimply-lit studio was in a state of completely disarray, opened bottles of Soju splattered all over the table, unfinished tracks seen on the computer screen reminding him in his foggy state of mind of all the due work, and the oh-so-dreadful deadlines.

  
Something heavy and akin to pain just swells in his abdomen, he often imagines this nameless pain would take the physical form of a knot—ever-present and infinitely entangled. 

“Fucking loser” he mumbles to himself. Despite the credit he’s taken for the songs he’s composed and written, and all accomplishments deemed impressive by sunbaemins, he still can’t quite let go of this self-deprecation, and the nagging voice inside of him telling him that “no, this isn’t good enough, this isn’t the best that you could do. You’re not good enough” It is the only consistency he’s known in his life.

He hears the faint sound of a knock followed by Jaewon’s entry into the studio.

He comes in, holding two cups of coffee in his hands, clad in a white shirt; tattoos peeking out underneath the short sleeves and a cross necklace dangling from his throat, hair tucked behind his ears save for the long bangs. Looking effortlessly pretty. That bastard.

“What do you have against normal sleeping schedules?” He asks Hanbin in his soft voice.

“Shut up," he shot him a glance, “but thanks for the coffee.” Hanbin answers in a gruff voice.  
He sipped his coffee, and thought of the chronic pain in the pit of his stomach, dull and nameless, disappearing only with the aid of mundane distractions. Then thought of of his heart—to him, it was a lot like a vacant room, unlit and empty.

The thing about Hanbin, is that he isn’t someone who’s too hung up on things he regards as trivial and uninteresting, and that includes almost everything.  
He is unfazed by hateful articles and negative press.

He remains unbothered by comments directed at his looks, attitude and personal life. And, well, nearly everything except his work.

There is also complete lack of interest on his part when it comes to the way people get caught up in romantic relationships, letting a sort of fervent affection blind them away from seeing things as they are, disregarding the grand scope of things, and the big picture—that being the inevitability of human loneliness.

He’s seen it, head-first, the way things are concluded; the humdrum opera of getting close and turning into strangers. It always ends with leaving. It makes sense to him, though, Hanbin understands it is hard not to be hated when the blunt truth of yourself is releaved to others.  
  
Mind you, he is perfectly fine as it is, enjoying his own company. He’s okay with being alone. This attitude does not entirely stem from self-love, but from pride. He takes pride in his individuality, and is in love with all things that make him different, even if said things are flaws and imperfections he’s been told to fix.

  
To put it simply, Hanbin doesn’t give a fuck. Except for his dreams and ambitions.

“Hey.…hyung.”

“Yes?”

“You know the sort of attitude I have, how others might call it.…”

“Asshole-ish? Dictator-like? With a sprinkle of batshit crazy on top?” Interrupted Jaewon,

“Hey, fuck you! I was gonna say proud, but hyung, do you think it’s an attitude that’s thrusted upon you when you’re part of the rap scene, or the sort of person you are?”

“Well…” Jaewon stopped to finish the last bit of his coffee,

“I think it’s the sort of thing you just can’t fake.  
There is little shit that you give a genuine fuck about, Hanbin. And it shows”

“I guess so.”

“Am I included in the lucky list?” Asked Jaewon playfully.

“No, hyung, maybe only on the rare occasional that you bring food and drinks.”

“Jerk” laughed Jaewon, and lightly punched Hanbin’s shoulder as he got up to walk to the built-in corner of the recording studio.

  
At times like these, as moonlight spills over the window glass into the heavy soundproof walls of the studio, soft unfinished tracks playing in the background and with Jaewon around, who’s here but not quite _here_ : it hits Hanbin how lonely he truly is.

Jaewon is here, but he isn’t allowed a touch beyond the confines of friendship. He isn’t allowed a kiss. Although he would like a…  
  
“Hyung what do you think of these lines?”

He handed Jaewon a paper with lyrics that he’s jotted down minutes ago: unfiltered and broken.

The words poured out of his skin and into paper, the way moonlight slides through the cracks.

  
They were unedited scribbles, probably incomprehensible and shitty, a way for him to rationalize the flashbacks he’s having.

  
“It meant nothing / your rough hand on mine / the briefest moment in time / in my mind it stretches to an infinity / we touched and it lasted a lifetime”

Nothing really happened, loneliness and a lack of experience naturally result in the exaggeration of whatever meaning that a passing moment holds.

  
He stuck his pathetic emotions into moments he’s shared with someone he found nice, moments which are otherwise casual and meaningless.

“This is actually nice. I can’t decide if it’s cheesy or sexual. Who is it about anyway?” inquired Jaewon, he was curious about Hanbin.

  
To him, a huge part of his personality was a facade. Well, not exactly as it wasn’t fake, Hanbin has his fair share of stupid moments, (the kid is frankly a mess if left to his own devices), and he is quite the pioneer of friendly banter that sometimes borders on hurtful, but it wasn’t all there is to him, there are parts of him that are complex— carefully tucked away within himself.

“Why the fuck would you ask a question like this? You know I’m not…you know it’s all the product of imagination.” sighed Hanbin. A half-truth.

“No, for real? Never? Nothing? No random girl in a club? High school girlfriend? You’re twenty-one, you must’ve had some kind…” Jaewon trailed off.

  
The impression that he’s missing out on experiences, or that there’s a universal timeline of how life and relationships should pan out really stresses Hanbin the fuck out.

“No, you fucking asshole, take pity on me” Hanbin turned his head to look at Jaewon, face angled towards Jaewon to carefully inspect his expression, his eyes longing and hopeful, “and be my first?” Again, half-sarcastic, half-genuine. Hanbin almost pouts.

Which Jaewon brushed off with a laugh, and a friendly pat on his hoodie-clad shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

 

It’s all too familiar. The sensation of “too much, toomuch, toofuckingmuch”, everything is all over the place with little to no control over the chaos. It is as if Hanbin’s own limbs had been dislocated, with no knowledge on how to put the pieces back together, he couldn’t stitch himself up and feel like the flesh is his again. It all rages within him—a mixture of fear, hope, and an ugly, misshapen thing he can’t quite pinpoint yet. It might be sadness. Though it seems like being anxious is the default state of his being, he still can’t recall the last time it got this bad. It was the sensation of countless needles arising from somewhere within him and stabbing into his insides as they go. He bleeds, and waits for something to numb the ache of overthinking, waits for the burn to sting a little less, but to no avail.

There was no particular trigger to Hanbin’s meltdown. He woke up in the middle of the night in cold sweat, panting and panicking. The heaviness he felt in his chest and the fidgets in his hands tied him down to the bed a good fifteen minutes, though it felt a lot longer than that.

No, definitely not, no sleep for him today. He left his room in the YG building and headed towards the studio. This was like clockwork, something he was so used to. Making music was a sort of escapism, he needed to go, needed to drown in its sea to chase out something inside him. Hanbin, though a lot calmer now than an hour ago, was still feeling a little heavy, a little on edge. Like some sort of congenital error left the chambers of his heart all holed-up and leaky— nothing was properly contained, things are always, always spilling over.

Hanbin enters the studio, and an unfamiliar face greets him. Well, not exactly new as he’s seen it before, countless times. Just never in this room before.  
It was YG’s favorite. SMTM winner and hotshot Rapper, Bobby. Jiwon and Hanbin first met during their trainee years, they were clueless teenagers at the time, but both were strong-willed and bursting with potential. Though Hanbin was a forest fire, passion burnt and spread through his bloodstream like fuel to the flames. Jiwon‘s passion burnt with less intensity, but he still delivers and makes an impression. His talent was god-sent and it all comes naturally to him, he steps on the stage and it is all his. All attention is diverted towards him once the rough sound of his rapping blasts through the speakers. Watching Jiwon perform live makes all the difference. He has a knack for this. Hanbin was at awe of his presence and his flow, it’s hypnotizing. They never interacted much, both had different mentors, and different schedules. Jiwon focused on releasing music, while Hanbin was more interested in what goes on behind the scenes. Writing and composing. Producing.

It was odd seeing Jiwon now in the recording room he spends most of his living hours room in, it brought flashbacks of his trainee years.

Hanbin was wearing the comfiest jeans he could find, an oversized bright yellow sweater and his round clear lens glasses. He stepped into the room, and greeted Jiwon politely.

“Hello,…uh.” Mumbled Hanbin “sorry to intrude…are you in the middle of something here?”

“Ah, no, no, no,” Jiwon flashed him a bright smile as he shook his head and gesturred for Hanbin to come inside “please come on in…Uhh, I came to work with Jaewon and Mino on something. It’s uuhhh…nothing official, we’re just having a little fun.”

The way Jiwon talked was a lot like the way he carried himself, but his off-stage persona was nothing like his on-stage presence. Jiwon was nothing like Bobby. But in any case, he brimmed with self-confidence.  
The way he talked was unfiltered, with no inhibitions and no pre-calculations, it was a little sloppy, his words slurred and his Korean was a little awkward at parts, but also kind of cute. The way he comes off to others reflects his very essence, he’s not misunderstood, because his actions aren’t distorted by overthinking and careful consideration.  
Jiwon struck Hanbin as someone who wasn’t plagued with incessant worries, he beams with a kind of nonchalant happiness Hanbin yearns for. The exact reason Hanbin once wanted to gravitate towards Jiwon. That, and his charms. It wasn’t the type you’d notice at first glance, he wasn’t conventionally attractive by the standards set upon South Korean idols, but still, he had his appeal, and it made him special.

Hanbin distinctly remembers being attracted to Jiwon. His bright smile, his physique—all broad shoulders, defined abs, and strong arms,—he was a unique combination of masculine and cute. He liked how rough and ruthless he was on stage, a stark contrast to how lovely he is.

“What brings you here at this godless hour?” Asked Jiwon,

“Are there even normal working hours? I’ve never heard of those” answered Hanbin with a straight face, looking Jiwon in the eyes.

Jiwon’s shirt was a bright purple shade that matched his newly dyed purple hair. He had a brow piercing, and was wearing multiple woven bracelets.

Jiwon chuckled, replying with “good point”

As Jiwon sat on the couch legs all sprawled out, he was taking up a lot of space, that’s the sort of person he is, Hanbin thought.  
He occupies the place he sets foot in, takes up space both physically and also in an intangible, inexplicable sense. It made the room stuffy.

As Hanbin thought about this, it dawned on him…

Jiwon is friends with Jaewon, he shows Jaewon the shit he writes, Jaewon might…

Oh, no, no, no, fuck. Some of what he writes can be obvious for someone who pays attention. He has to be careful.

  
Truth of the matter is, Hanbin had a big ass crush on Jiwon, and it is something he stills draws inspiration from. It’s nothing serious. He just liked to think of him sometimes, when he’s tired and has been pushed a little over the edge, or when a sense of all-encompassing emptiness hits extra hard during sleepless nights.  
It was physical attraction, rather than anything real or substantial. Nothing anyone would ever know about. No, definitely not. He shall keep it to himself, and revel in whatever guilty pleasure this one-sided attraction might bring him.  
To others, he is reserved, assertive and occasionally coarse and rude. He liked that, he liked the impression he gives off to others. It gives him a sense of control.  
He appears tough as fuck, often times scary.  
He is addicted to the false sense of security it gives, he never actually feels in control so he thrives on the feeling, he revels in the role of leadership—but always longs for the moment he would slip away and let go,—longs to find someone to trust enough, so that he would taken care of, preferably by a certain purple-haired individual. He’d take good care of him, he can only imagine what his…

“…don’t you agree with me on this one?” Asked Jiwon. Hanbin abruptly snapped out of his daydream, feeling a little ashamed. His body suddenly felt warm and his neck was most likely crimson red.  
Jiwon’s eyes bore into and it was like all his innermost, shameful thoughts are out there for him to inspect. He wanted to hide.

“I’m sorry, what?” Hanbin answered, asking him to repeat everything he just said.

Thankfully, minutes later Jaewon came to the rescue, along with Mino and Raesung.

“Whole squad is here, huh? And none of you is mindful enough to bring something edible along, you useless assholes. This poor guy is crying.” Hanbin whined, gesturing to his belly. Half-pouting, half-sulking.

“Shut up, you big baby” answered Jaewon, ever so soft, “I’ll bring us something.”

Oh, no, Hanbin’s mind registered that he’ll be spending time alone. With Jiwon. And his thoughts. No.

“It’s okay, Jaewonnie, I’ll go.” Hanbin got up to leave and gently pecked Jaewon on the cheek, as Jiwon watched with a blank expression.

 


	3. Chapter 3

  
Hanbin hadn’t expected the night to turn out this way, he had an awful start brought to him by all the ways his weird, fucked-up sentiments would build-up within him, crawl into his subconscious and disturb his sleep. But it turned out well. Surprisingly enough, he and Jiwon hit it off, the time they spent was delightful. It was an idle night, they talked about all sorts of stupid things and nothing in particular. The small room echoed with the sound of Jiwon’s laughter, he found Hanbin’s remarks absolutely hilarious. “I’m just saying…” Jiwon stopped mid-chortle to take a breath “that it doesn’t make sense, why would you give _her_ that name?“

Hanbin looked at him with a blank expression, and “who the fuck do you think you are?” Jiwon stared back, “I give my keyboard whatever name inspiration dawns upon me” Hanbin continued, which sent Jiwon into another fit of laughter.  
  
“I’m just saying that it’s one thing to name it after an actress you like AND A WHOLE OTHER TO ADDRESS HER LIKE THIS” Bobby was laughing, “LIKE A GIRLFRIE—“ which Hanbin interrupted with “I refuse to hear more of your harsh judgments.” “AND YOU DO THIS WITH A STRAIGHT FACE IT MAKES IT WORSE” the sight of Jiwon laughing uncontrollably at something so ridiculous gave Hanbin a light chuckle.  
  
Jiwon looked adorable like this, arms wrapped around himself, head tilted back with a full, toothy grin on display.

“Speaking of, do you have…you know, like, someone…?” Hanbin mustered up the courage to ask Jiwon.

“Uhhh,” Jiwon muttered and looked at Hanbin straight in the eye. Eye contact is overwhelming to Hanbin. He has to look away. “Kind of? I mean, there’s this girl. It’s an on-and-off kinda thing. You know,”, then, then proceeded to elaborate in English “ _friends with benefits._ ”

Then the blank expression that is almost permanently plastered on Hanbin’s face wavered for a second. He imagined what it would be like to be with Jiwon in _that_ kind of way. He imagined he wouldn’t mind that. Hanbin doesn’t give voice to his honest thoughts, but what almost gives him away is the look of longing in his eyes, the desperate edge to his demeanor, and the way his casual touches are too frequent and would linger too long. It isn’t necessary to be too careful, though, because Jiwon wasn’t all that attentive anyway. He was nothing like Jaewon, nothing like anyone he’s met before.

“What about you?” Jiwon inquired casually. It was obvious to Hanbin that Jiwon wasn’t curious, at least not the same way Hanbin is. He was making conversation.

“What kind of blasphemous question is that? You know I’m saving myself for the love of my life, talented renowned actress and beautiful human miss Kim Ji—“ Jiwon half-cringed, half-laughed “No, no, no, stop. Don’t even finish the sentence”

The truth is, Hanbin spent so long suppressing whatever strong attraction he’s experienced, so putting on pretenses in front of Jiwon right now was like clockwork. The knot is still tightly coiled, no strings were pulled, and there was no chance of slipping away—of letting himself finally be seen.

They hung out together until dawn, long after Jaewon and Raesung had left. It was uneventful in the most delightful way possible, their time was spent messing around, writing shitty songs, sharing ridiculous stories. Jiwon had one bottle of maekju, while Hanbin kept it alcohol-free. “You can’t handle alcohol? At all? Nothing” Jiwon slurred in a way that was attractive to Hanbin at the ungodly hour or three a.m.  
“No, I’d rather not” Hanbin answered Jiwon, looking at him; voice sounding involuntarily softer and a little strained. Jiwon’s hair looked so soft. Hanbin’s heart swelled with how much he wanted to reach out and touch. It was like an irritation beneath his skin that he couldn’t quite relieve. An itch he couldn’t soothe.

The wasn’t the last time he’s seen Jiwon, he kept coming over—to his flat, and to the recording studio. They met at different times and in different places in the YG building. It isn’t often that Hanbin finds joy in any company except his own, but with Jiwon it is always casual and lighthearted, he doesn’t think too much, or dwell on the words he utters. He sheds some of his inhibitions, and cares a little less about things which otherwise plague his mind with worries.

He hadn’t realized how much he needed that until he met Jiwon.


	4. Chapter 4

Getting to know Jiwon, and letting him into his life was a lot like jigsaw falling into place. Jiwon’s presence in his life hasn’t swept him up like a storm, it hasn’t shaken his very core; it was rather calm.  
He brought a long some sort of stillness; being next to him quiets down the noise that is ever present within Hanbin’s skull, it stops the cog-wheel from turning. Hanbin has grown addicted to him, to the sense of relief he brings. He sees Jiwon, and the blood coursing through his veins is instantly replaced with sickly-sweet honey, like the filling of every empty space inside his body with something other than air, something soft and sweet which renders his insides warm and sticky.

Hanbin had a long day of practicing, composing and being a mentor for YG trainees, helping them fine-tune their final results. He fit Jiwon in his packed schedules, he made time to talk to him during his breaks.

But sometimes, not even talking to Jiwon and seeing him could pull him out of his misery. He wanted something more, some kind of reassurance. He’d sink so deep into himself with no way to reach out. He thought of this misery which occasionally consumes him; if it were a language, Hanbin imagined it would be ancient and dying; with him as its sole native on earth. He’d be intimately familiar with the structure and the intricacies of its words and sentences, but with no way to communicate its meanings. He felt lost, and his ribcage breaks and expands at the sheer weight of these incommunicable things.

A few months into their friendship, which was brought to their followers by all sorts of instagram posts, (Hanbin posted pictures and videos of Jiwon that he took, and even shared some of their unofficial recording sessions.) Fans caught on their burgeoning friendship and undeniable connection, they demanded that Yang Hyunsuk release their demos officially. Their combined sound was unique, each respective style complemented the other very well; Hanbin’s high-pitch verses followed by Bobby’s; aggressive and octaves deeper.

The time spent preparing for the album went by in a relentless rush; inspiration was always surging. They came up with ideas, refined and fine-tuned, checked unfinished verses with sunbaemins, then came up with new ones. There was a consensus when it came to the beat and melody of the music they make, but each lyric tells a different story. During their first songwriting sessions, Jiwon was tapping the pencil he’s holding on his dogeared, used-up notebook as he asked Hanbin “who is this about? I mean, the shit I write is pretty obvious, it’s either hook-ups I thought too long about, or whatever struggles I’ve had before and during SMTM. Not as cryptic as yours.”

Jiwon looked at Hanbin with a childish curiosity, as though he’s waiting for a story to unfold. “Like, for a example. This lyric, it gets pretty steamy here if you ask me. It says ‘sometimes I reject the very things I crave / I wanna see the things your mouth…’” which was abruptly interrupted by Hanbin. He grabbed his own notebook, which Jiwon took discreetly, and proceeded to lightly slap Jiwon’s shoulder with it.

“Ever heard of this concept called privacy?” He tried to sound calm and collected, but the beet-red blush creeping up his neck gave him away. They were things he’d written in this very room, as he looked at Jiwon. Driven by an impulsive desire to get closer to Jiwon, the words poured and flowed ceaselessly.

“You write about this kinda stuff, too. Noona this, noona that. The difference is” Hanbin wasn’t looking at Jiwon the whole time “is that I have shame.”

Jiwon smiled at him, he wasn’t sitting in an upright position, Jiwon never does. He sunk comfortably into the couch, his legs wide open and his back a little hunched. “isn’t that another way of saying you’re a virgin?” He chucked at his own remark.

“Fuck you. I’m not having this fucking conversation. But no it’s not that, you piece of shit” Hanbin retaliated, “you’re the one who’s shameless. Do you even hear yourself talk?”

“I never even gave you the nasty details. This is the reaction of someone who’s never tried anything before” Jiwon replied, while looking at Hanbin as though he was something combustible. “The one I told you about a few days ago, she texted me today. She wants us to go at it again, says she misses me.”

“I’d really rather not talk about this. Thank you” Hanbin could not handle the direction towards which this conversation was going. He didn’t need further detail about Jiwon’s sex life, he did not want a vivid image of what it’s like to be the object of Jiwon’s attention, what he would do, what would be done to him, he did not want to know what makes him tick. No, absolutely fucking not.

“Why? Are you into super freaky shit? Is that why you don’t wanna talk? it’s alright Hanbinnie, I’m cool.”

Hanbin felt like his insides were on fire, like he was put under the spotlight, but instead of stage fright there’s this pleasant thrill that weaved through his bones. He wanted to be thought of like this, wanted Jiwon to be a little more interested than he let on. And a dark, distorted part of him wanted to disclose all filthy things which had remained unknown throughout his whole life.  
He was a mixture of embarrassed and turned on. But it was still a conversation he could not handle.

“It’s not something I can talk about…” Hanbin paused “with you.” He spoke in a soft voice, a little thick with sleep as it was past midnight. He fiddled with the bracelet he’s working, face turned and still not looking at Jiwon.

“Okay, whatever makes you comfortable, Hanbin” Jiwon grinned, ever-so-bright,  
“But at the same you come up with really self-deprecating stuff. Like, what’s this about being in rock bottom. ‘Because from down here, It doesn’t look all that great up there.’ You’re like,” Jiwon paused to think, eyes all contemplative, “so fucking conceited but also self-deprecating. At the same time. How the fuck do you do it”  
Which Hanbin reacted to with a lop-sided smile, his barely visible dimple peeking out. His skin burnt with the sweet thrill of being seen, and being recognized.

Jiwon got up from his seat in frantic enthusiasm to share a sudden streak of inspiration, “how about something that goes like this?” The proceeded to share with Hanbin a verse that highlighted some of the intensity and aggression which feature Jiwon’s rapping. But that was followed by another verse that was uncharacteristically soft, and so ‘un-Bobby-like’ it was strangely intimate, and had a beautiful sound. Like what it feels like to take a dip in the pool on a hot summer night, or like being woken up by gentle sunlight to the sight of your loved one right next to you.  
“What do you think?” Asked Jiwon excitedly, he cared a lot about Hanbin’s opinion. The expression he wears whenever he awaits validation is that of an injured puppy, Hanbin finds it charming.

“It’s really nice, Jiwon. I never imagined you’d pull off this whole chill, soft vibe but it does sound fucking nice. Get more comfortable with the flow, it needs tiny tweaks and you’re good to go.”

“Thank you, Hanbinnie” it seemed to Hanbin sometimes that Jiwon’s default facial expression is a smile. It never fucking wears off, Hanbin loves it.  
“I’ll text Jaewon and Raesung. Check if they’re free to stop by tomorrow.”

The rest of the session went quietly, they were both content about the work they put in for the day. They were stoked about the music they’re making, both were already comfortable with a combined effort as they had already experienced working together before, but now it’s official, personal and infinitely more exciting.


End file.
